


Here with Me

by takethisnight_wrapitaroundme



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Begging, Blindness, Community: theoldguardkinkmeme, Creampie, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Handcuffs, Interracial Relationship, Nipple Play, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sensory Deprivation, Vaginal Sex, Wet & Messy, oops it got emotional!, sue me i adore this ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27965501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme/pseuds/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme
Summary: Unable to stomach another one-night stand with a mortal, Nile seeks out an establishment that will cater to the particular type of anonymous encounter she craves. She does not want to know the man she’s sleeping with. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know her.Written forthe promptNile/Booker + she doesn’t know who she’s having sex with, but he does.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman
Comments: 32
Kudos: 109
Collections: Book of Nile Collection!





	Here with Me

**Author's Note:**

> Sometime during Booker’s exile…

The room was sparser than Nile expected. She’d looked at the pictures online, and she’d read detailed testimonials, but no amount of research could compare to actually _being in the room_. It was small and sterile—the look and dimensions reminded her immediately of a doctor’s exam room—with the only difference being there were no counters, chairs, or exam table. There was just one bed, set against the back wall. There were no blankets or covers, just a fitted sheet and a pillow. Nile appreciated the lack of pretension even as it set her stomach fluttering. There was nowhere to hide in this room.

It wasn’t too late to walk out. The clerk had told her so when she checked in—she could leave at any time before the session started, and would only incur a small charge. And if she wanted to leave in the middle of the session, well—

Her eyes sought out the little red button built into the wall. It was set directly behind the metal bed frame, and would be within easy reach the moment she laid down. She knew from reading testimonials that she’d have one hand tied to the bed frame in such a way that the button would always be within her reach, no matter what her partner did. She wondered if she’d find its presence comforting, the way so many former clients said they had.

 _We don’t like to use the word panic,_ the clerk had explained when she’d called with a few questions. _We prefer to think of it as an end button. Everything stops when you hit it. Security is called immediately and they’ll remove your partner from the room within seconds. We’ll take things from there._

Nile had not found any testimonials describing that sort of situation, but nor had she looked very hard for one. By that point, she’d already been certain this is what she’d wanted. She had become so tired of one-night stands with people she knew she’d outlive. The lure of such complete anonymity offered by this establishment was too enticing to pass up. She didn’t have to look in their eyes and think about seeing them go glassy. She didn’t have to run her hands through their hair and think of it turning gray and falling out. She didn’t have to touch their skin and think about it aging and wrinkling and going cold. She did not have to think of that hot, heavy, _alive_ body around hers suddenly—dead.

No, all she had to do here was take a seat on the bed and wait for the assistant to arrive. They would handle everything—blinding her, tying her in place, sliding the earplugs into her ears. They’d even offered options to cut off the senses of smell and taste, but she’d opted to keep those. She knew scent and taste were important triggers for memory, and she wanted to remember this day.

The assistant, when she arrived, was calm and polite. She looked to be about Nile’s age, with light brown skin, and she had such a nice smile Nile couldn’t stop the thought entering her mind: _I wish I could’ve picked her._ She’d asked for a man this time, but next time—if there was a next time—she decided she’d mark down a preference for women.

She had been able to choose a variety of other preferences when she’d signed up, and though the process allowed her to get quite granular, Nile had cast her net wide. After all, what did the details matter when she wouldn’t be able to see or hear the person she’d be with? She had marked a preference for weight, simply because she was small and didn’t want to be crushed, but beyond that she hadn’t mattered much what her partner looked like. They had all been vetted previously, and that was what mattered.

The assistant explained once more what would happen, and though Nile didn’t need to hear it, she didn’t stop her. She’d always found comfort in routine, and listening to instructions calmed her. The assistant explained each step twice, to be sure there wasn’t any confusion or questions, before she began the process.

_First, you’re going to take off your clothes._

Nile did so without hesitation and without shame. Years in the military had shorn off most of the embarrassment she’d once had about her body, and even if they hadn’t, she wouldn’t have walked into this type of establishment being unable to be naked in front of strangers. (She thought she saw the assistant stealing a look as she slid off her underwear, but maybe that was just wishful thinking.)

_Second, you’re going to lie on the bed however you feel most comfortable, and I’m going to tie one of your hands to the frame._

Nile lay down on her back, not because she loved missionary, but because it felt simplest for this first foray. The tie was leather—worn and soft but not easily escapable. The assistant guided Nile’s thumb to the not-panic button and instructed her to press it. _Just so you’ll know how it feels if you need to use it,_ she said, and Nile did so, feeling a little flip in her stomach as it all started to become more real. The assistant smiled at her like she knew, and Nile wondered how many women she’d walked through this particular procedure. She wondered if she’d gone through it herself. Maybe she got a discount.

_Third, I’m going to administer eyedrops and run a few tests to confirm you are sufficiently sightless._

The drops were cold and sharp, but not painful. Nile blinked as they fell into her eyes, and just as she was wondering how long they’d take to kick in, her vision started dimming. With every blink, she could see less and less until there was only darkness. Even with her eyes open and straining, she could not see a single thing.

_Fourth, I’m going to insert earplugs and test your hearing to confirm you’ve been properly deafened._

The plugs were small and rubber and they slid in easily. They felt like the same plugs she’d worn on deployment and to concerts and when she’d had obnoxiously loud neighbors—but they were infinitely more powerful. The moment they were in place, all sound immediately disappeared. She was left only with the echo of her own heartbeat reverberating within her body. It was getting faster.

_Fifth, I’m going to tap your wrist to make sure you’re ready. If you are, nod and say ‘Ready’ aloud. If you do not nod and say ‘Ready,’ I’ll assume you aren’t prepared and I’ll remove the earplugs, untie you, and administer an antidote for the eyedrops._

The tap was not light, like Nile had expected, but hard and insistent. She felt the smack against her tendons as much as she did against her skin. She nodded and said _Ready_ as firmly as she could manage. With the earplugs in, she may have yelled the word, but she didn’t care. She was ready to disappear.

_Finally, I am going to leave the room, and your partner will enter it. What happens after that is up to you and him. Remember to press the button if you need it._

Nile did not know when the assistant left, or when her partner arrived. She tried to slow her breathing in a roundabout attempt to quiet her pounding heart, but it was impossible. As the seconds slipped into minutes, she realized that she would not know if he was in the room until he chose to touch her. The thought sent a thrill of heat through her legs, and she flexed the muscles in her calves, mindlessly seeking him.

She could not hear, could not see, and so she imagined him standing there, staring at her as she lay naked and blind and half-bound to the bed. His for the taking, however he saw fit.

Was he hard yet, just from looking at her?

Nile lifted her hips on the bed, bending one leg at the knee to open herself. Was he watching her? Her left hand twitched involuntarily at her side, though whether it was to cover herself or touch herself, even Nile didn’t know. She lay still and wondered why he was here, why he did this job.

Did he enjoy fucking women who’d never know his name or recognize his face? Women who, per the company’s rules, would never be able to ask for more? Did he have a partner at home, a family? Was this a short-term side job or some kind of lust-filled calling?

Nile sucked in a deep breath, purposefully trapping the air in her chest and letting it expand. She hoped he was watching. She hoped he liked what he saw.

How much longer would she have to lay here waiting for him? Seconds? Minutes? There was no time limit on the rooms, she knew. Things could last as long or be over as quickly as you liked. She’d read testimonials from women who’d gone in in the morning and come out in the evening, exhausted and nearly bowlegged. _Overwhelmed by orgasms,_ is how one woman put it, and Nile wondered if that was something she’d paid more for or had just been a side perk.

The service worked both ways, Nile knew. It wasn’t choice-less prostitution. The men and women employed here chose their clients as much as the clients could choose them. _An authentic, mutually satisfying sexual experience is important to us_ , the brochures online read, as if depriving oneself of one’s senses was authentic. Nile didn’t care to quibble over marketing. All she wanted was—

_There._

A hand, suddenly resting on top of her left foot. The palm was smooth and large and Nile started at the unexpected touch. Her head immediately swung around, as if she could see—but of course she could not. She looked up to where she imagined the man’s head would be, but she saw nothing but darkness.

Darkness all around, and her heartbeat sounding within her ears.

Was he already naked? Or he standing there, straining against his clothes as he stared down at her?

His hand was still touching her foot. His thumb was rubbing gentle circles against her sole and when he directed his touch a certain way, Nile couldn’t help but jerk her foot away, ticklish. She said as much aloud, apologizing so as not to discourage him, though whether she whispered or yelled it, she didn’t know. The deafness was more nerve-racking than the blindness or the bound hand. She didn’t think she’d ever been deprived of her hearing in all her life, and certainly never like this.

It was terrifying and exciting, all at once.

She took in a deep breath, let it go, and told herself to relax. If she was lucky, maybe she too would leave hours later than expected, confused by the darkness outside and high on too many orgasms.

His next touch began below her navel, fingertips skimming in a wide circle around her belly before following the straight path of her sternum up her body. When he reached her chin, he lifted it and tilted it to the side, and she went willingly, her entire body thrumming with anticipation as she turned to him like a flower to the sun. What was he going to do? Kiss her? Press his cock to her lips?

A shiver of something between fear and anticipation ran down her back. There had been a space on the forms, to list no-go sex acts, but she hadn’t bothered with any. That was not to say she didn’t have boundaries—she did—but she knew from doing her reading that this particular establishment tended to put the client’s pleasure first and foremost. Only if a client specifically requested it would they be made to pleasure their hired partner.

He did not kiss her, or press himself to her mouth. He just held her chin there, and she found herself blinking furiously, wishing she could see him. She wanted to ask what he was waiting for, what he thought of her, but she did not trust herself to speak. It didn’t matter—she wouldn’t be able to hear any answer he gave anyway.

As he kept two fingers tucked beneath her chin, his thumb rose and drew a line from the tip of her nose down the middle of her lips. His touch smoothed easily over the upper one, and then snagged on the valley in between, dragging her lower lip down to expose her teeth and gums. Nile breathed hard, laying there frozen as she waited. He held her lower lip down for many seconds before finally letting go.

She couldn’t help but panic the moment his touch disappeared. Was there something wrong with her? Did he not like what he saw? She was in the dark, even with her eyes open, but she knew the room itself was lighted. He, whoever he was, could see her clearly in all her nakedness. Was he regretting his choice? Was he wishing she looked different? Did he want—

All the thoughts flew out of her head when she felt pressure at the foot of the mattress. She felt it dip once, twice. She could feel the indentation on either side of her feet. Was he kneeling above her? She resisted the urge to stretch her leg out to check. Instead, she waited for him to initiate the touch.

Part of the reason she had come here, besides the anonymity, was to feel as powerless as possible. And what was more powerless than losing half of your senses? If they’d had an offering to make her mute as well as deaf, Nile wouldn’t taken it. If they’d offered to tie up both of her legs and her other hand instead of just the one, she would’ve jumped at the chance. She wanted to be fucked and left behind, like nothing. Just the way she did with mortals. She wanted pleasure and she wanted attention, and she wanted it all to disappear the moment she walked outside.

She wanted to be taken like the defenseless offering she was.

But he was hesitant, her man. She felt the twin pressures on the mattress shift around her as he moved closer. He came to a stop somewhere around her waist. Nile clenched her thighs on instinct, certain he would reach between them first. But no.

He touched her stomach first, laying a flat palm against her belly. He moved it up her chest and then cupped her left breast, taking it easily in one hand. His hands were large, and she was momentarily embarrassed by how small her breast must feel to him, but then he started kneading it gently, and she moaned, arching her back so as to push herself even closer to him. Her nipple was hard against his palm and she wanted him to pinch it, pull it, suck it.

It wasn’t until he pulled away that she realized she could ask for what she wanted. They couldn’t talk, not really, but she could speak and he could choose whether or not he wanted to listen. She crossed her legs tight, feeling the slick between her thighs when she squeezed them together.

“Don’t stop so soon,” she said. She had no way to modulate her voice; she hoped he could hear her. She hoped she wasn’t too loud as she begged, “Please touch me some more. I love the way your hands feel on me.”

He didn’t give in right away. She could feel him hovering above her, watching and she licked her lips and shut her eyes, unable to take the scrutiny, be it real or imagined. Blind as she was, she was merely trading one darkness for another, but somehow closing her eyelids had given her a taste of bravery.

“Here, I’ll show you,” she whispered, and she moved her free hand down to her breast. She squeezed it roughly, the way she liked, kneading the soft flesh far harder than he had. She toyed with her nipple, flicking it with her thumbnail before pinching it and twisting it hard to the side.

Her breath started quickening as she touched herself, and she clenched her thighs even tighter together, shifting her right fully over her left and hooking her foot behind the left calf. She was going to give herself a cramp if she stayed like this very long, but she hoped he’d get the idea before that happened.

“You try,” she said, letting go and dropping her hand to the mattress.

It didn’t take more than a second and his big hands were on her breasts again, squeezing tight and worrying her nipples with deft tugs and pinches. Nile groaned, arching her back up into his touch, chanting, _Yes, yes, yes._ He kneaded her tits like they were bread and soon she was whimpering, tossing her head from one side to the other, and lifting her hips up off the mattress in order to be closer to him. She was so wet she was having trouble keeping her thighs together. They kept slipping and sliding and eventually she just gave up and spread them wide.

His hands stuttered in their work for a moment, and she flushed with pride, imaging him caught off guard by the sight of her arousal. She almost opened her mouth to tell him to fuck her now, but she resolved she wouldn’t be giving any more directions. He could find his own way.

He found it by ducking his head to her chest and laying the flat of his tongue against her nipple, licking once before sucking the abused little bud into his mouth. His suction was so perfect she cried out, her free hand blindly reaching—for his shoulder, his neck, his hair. The tendrils between her fingertips were long and soft and she tugged on them in approval, straining her neck in his direction. She couldn’t quite reach his face with her lips, but it hardly mattered because part of the pleasure was in the denial.

He let go of her nipple and then blew against it, and she shivered at the sensation, crying out softly. At the same time, he pinched her other nipple, twisting it hard, and she swore, pleasure shooting straight to her core. As he started to lay attention on that one, she pushed her head back against the mattress, wondering what in the world it was she signed up for. All she knew was that she was going to be drenched by the time he got around to fucking her.

When he tired of teasing her breasts, he moved upwards. She knew because she could feel his knees against her ribcage. The coarse hairs of his thighs rubbing against her skin as he knelt over her. She could not see, but she was very aware his cock must be somewhere near her face, hovering between them. She knew now he wasn’t wearing pants, but was he wearing anything? She was so tempted to reach out with a free hand and find out, but she had decided. He would call the shots. She would lay here and take it.

She did not know he was thinking of kissing her until he did it. He might have been hovering an inch from her face, but she had no way to tell. One moment there was nothing, and then—then there was his mouth on hers, hard and insistent and she wanted to scream _Yes!_ because this is what she’d wanted. No hesitation. No overthinking. Just seeing what you want and taking it.

She kissed him back, wrapping her free hand around one of the bars of the bed frame behind her so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch him. He wasn’t shy with his tongue, and she learned to let her mouth fall open, let him take and taste all he wanted. And he wanted a lot.

He kissed her firmly, purposefully, like he was trying to pass on some kind of secret message.

She had no means to decode it and nor did she care to try. This stranger had nothing to say to her that she needed to hear except _I want you_. That was the only phrase in their secret little language, and they passed it back and forth and back and forth.

One of his hands returned to her breast, toying once more with her sensitive nipples, while the other cupped the side of her face as they kissed. She didn’t know how long they lay like that, making out with him kneeling above her, playing with her tits, but at some point he gave in, and let their naked bodies fully touch for the first time. Her whole body surged when she felt his bare erection press against her, but the weight of him held her down and she loved it. Bending one of her own little rules, she let go of the bed frame and clutched the back of his neck, wanting more leverage so she could kiss him harder.

“Fuck me,” she begged whenever they broke for air. Did she whisper it, scream it, shout it? She had no idea. It didn’t matter. Every time he silenced her with his mouth, and pressed his erection down against her, she writhed beneath him, not knowing if she loved or hated him for denying her like this. She was soon sopping wet between her thighs and she wrapped them firmly around his waist, wanting him to feel.

_This is what you to do me._

She didn’t have the breath for words, so she let her body talk for her. Her legs, gripping him tight. Her free hand, digging its nails into his back. Her chained hand, straining so desperately against its bond. Her pussy aching for him and her mouth begging when it wasn’t kissing.

What more could he possibly want?

Did he like to drive women insane?

Did he act like this with everyone else?

She felt like she might go mad before he ever fucked her, but then she felt it. She felt him draw away. His lips left hers, his torso lifted, and then his hands were prying her legs off of him. For a minute, she was terrified he was going to walk away and leave her like this. She was radioactive with desire; it felt like every moment she spent on the edge brought her a moment closer to death.

But then there were his hands, those big smooth hands, spreading her legs wide, as wide as they would go. His palms stroking along her inner thighs. Spreading the wet mess of her own arousal all over her skin.

“Please,” she mumbled as he stroked his fingers along her slit and collected more and more. She was so oversensitive she could do little but lay there and twitch for him. “Please fuck me. Please, I need it. I can’t take this much longer. I’m begging you.”

If he heard her whining, he didn’t seem to care. He continued at his leisurely pace, dragging his fingers through her pussy to collect all he could before teasing her with one digit or two. She lay there and sweated, twisting herself this way and that to try and trap him into giving her more. He always slipped away, every time.

And then finally, he gave in. She felt the first tease of his cock and she cried out, feeling like she might weep in relief. Only the tip was inside her but already she was whispering how good he felt, how big he was inside her. Men always liked to hear that type of thing, and she doubted this one was any different than all the others she’d slept with. If he wanted to break her in two, she’d snap and she’d do it happily.

Maybe he could sense that willingness, or maybe he just knew she could take whatever he gave, because after teasing with just the tip, he shoved his entire length deep inside her. She shouted at the intrusion, her body clenching down so tight around him, but he didn’t hesitate anymore. He pulled out and then thrust back in, his hips slamming down into hers. She could feel him reaching for her, lifting her ass up to get a better angle, and she complied, wrapping her legs around his back once more, not wanting to give him any excuse to let up. He fucked her for a few more fast, hard strokes before bending over her body, and pressing kisses here and there against her torso on his way to her mouth. When he slid his tongue into her mouth, she moaned, tasting herself on his tongue. He must’ve been slurping her wetness off his own fingers when he’d been touching her earlier. The thought made her flush with arousal and anger all at once. She felt cheated out of his tongue on her pussy, but at the same time, the thought of him dipping his fingers between the folds of her pussy for taste after taste was unbearably hot.

His thrusts became slower and more languid as he kissed her. His hands were framing her face again, his thumbs so soft as he stroked her cheeks, and she was so grateful, suddenly, that she didn’t have to look at him. Even with her eyes open, even with his face so close to hers, there was nothing to see. No intimacy to shy from, no lack of it to worry after.

Just his body, making hers feel so good she felt like he was some kind of god in human form. Normal men didn’t fuck like this. No one fucked like this.

“You’re perfect,” she whispered when he broke the kiss.

She could feel his forehead against hers, slipping due to the sweat on their bodies. She could feel the frantic way his chest was rising and falling in time with hers and she knew they were both panting, likely loudly. She didn’t want her words to get lost in the noise, or forgotten in the haze. She did not know this man, and never would, but she still wanted him to hear what she was saying. She touched a hand to his cheek, bringing him close for another kiss before sliding her thumb between their mouths to hold him at bay for a moment. In the darkness, she searched for his eyes and hoped she found them.

“You are perfect for me.” She moved her thumb to the side and kissed him again, lingering this time. “Thank you.”

She lay back against the mattress then, letting her arm fall limply to the side, praying he would take the cue for what it was. He did. They were in tune now, she could feel it. He pushed one of her legs up, bending it at the knee, but then what that wasn’t the angle he liked, he hooked it over his shoulder. He kept the other on the mattress, holding it down as he pounded into her, every stroke faster than the last until she couldn’t stand up to the pressure anymore and she came, spasming around him.

He fucked her straight through it, just like she’d always wanted but was never brave enough to ask for, and she was so keyed up she felt like she might come again when suddenly he burst, shooting his come hot and deep within her.

She wished then that she could see. She wanted to see what he looked like when he came, wanted to see if he held himself still or shuddered with pleasure. Did he gasp, cry, shout? Did he try to hold it all in, his face twisting with the effort?

He was pulling out before she was ready, and she whined wordlessly, wishing he would stay. She knew she couldn’t make him. He was contracted to fuck her, that was it. He did not need to stay. He did not need to accommodate her every wish.

She waited to feel his weight lift from the mattress. She waited to be left alone, a spent and used mess, for the assistant to walk in and free.

But he didn’t leave. He didn’t get up.

He fell back to the mattress beside her, and pressed his body close to hers. She could feel their sweat-slick skin sliding wherever they touched—chests, legs, stomachs. He had a sparse trail of hair below his navel, and he flinched when she stroked it. She smiled, remember the way he’d touched her foot—that first touch felt like a million years ago now.

“Ticklish?” she murmured, though if he answered, she did not hear.

She sighed when one of his hands rose to stroke her cheek. She turned blindly towards where she thought he might be, and was rewarded with a chaste kiss. When she felt his other hand nudging between her thighs, she sighed in exhaustion, but let him have his way. She expected him to spread her wide, maybe sink a finger or two into her wet heat, but instead he just held her there. Cupped her pussy fully in his big hand, like he was trying to keep himself inside.

She smiled, thinking that perhaps she had one answer after all: _this_ was why he did the job. How had it never occurred to her before? Of course it made sense for some of the men who worked here to have a thing for knocking strangers up. She wouldn’t ruin his high by telling him that was impossible for her. No, instead she would lay there, curled up close against him, and lower her free hand down to cover his with her own. When he kissed her, she kissed him back.

She had no idea how long they lay there, holding one another in the aftermath. With every second that ticked by, she wondered when he’d leave. And with every second he stayed, she found herself grateful for it. She preferred to keep casual sex casual, and she often left one-night stands while her partner was still coming down, but there was something about him that made her want them both to stay there together just a little longer.

She would be leaving this city soon. This place was just one stop on her trip east, and while she’d been eager to depart its limits the day before, now she wished she could stay a little longer. But she knew it was pointless. There was a job waiting out east, and real life calling.

She should be grateful for this moment, and this man. It was a pity the best sex of her life had been with a stranger she’d never see again.

But at least, she thought as she pulled him close again, at least they could make their one moment together last a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a real challenge for me, since I really rely on dialogue during sex scenes, and I’m not used to writing such a detached encounter. OP, if you’re reading, I hope I filled the prompt to your expectations!
> 
> If you’ve got thoughts, please leave them below! Thanks everyone for reading! :)


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